


Sky Full of Stars

by thetrashcanoof



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Crowley, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Stars, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 01:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetrashcanoof/pseuds/thetrashcanoof
Summary: Crowley never missed their lunch dates. At least not after the not-apocalypse. Sure, he was always fashionably late if they didn't go together, but he never missed them. What made it worse, was that he wasn't answering his phone. His mobile phone went straight to voicemail and when he called his house phone it rang, but he never picked up and it eventually went to the now familiar, "This is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style." The first few times, Aziraphale left messages like, "Crowley, dear, are you alright?" But eventually he gave up and left the restaurant. Crowley was probably fine...hopefully... He was probably asleep, but there was still that nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to go check on him. He tried to put it off, forcing himself to read a book, but it got too much. He closed the store and made his way to Crowleys flat.





	Sky Full of Stars

It all started with a migraine. Crowley didn't think anything of it since he usually got them every now and then. He just needed some sleep before his dinner date with Aziraphale. Even though demons didn't need sleep, it was one of the unneeded things, other than drinking heavily, that Crowley indulged it. With a wave of his hand, he was in a comfy pair of pyjamas and he curled up in a thick blanket, letting sleep overtake him in a matter of seconds.

And that's when everything went to shit.

He woke up gasping. Not because of a nightmare, for once, but because he literally couldn't breathe. A sharp pain ran through his chest and he cried out, clutching at it. He vaguely wondered if this is what humans felt like when they had heart attacks. After a few minutes, he shuddered and relaxed. His hand fell from his chest and he groaned. Not even bothering to try to move. He needed to though. He couldn't just let Aziraphale go to dinner alone, but before he could even attempt to get up, the need to sleep pulled him back unconscious.

\----------

Crowley never missed their lunch dates. At least not after the not-apocalypse. Sure, he was always fashionably late if they didn't go together, but he never missed them. What made it worse, was that he wasn't answering his phone. His mobile phone went straight to voicemail and when he called his house phone it rang, but he never picked up and it eventually went to the now familiar, "This is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style." The first few times, Aziraphale left messages like, "Crowley, dear, are you alright?" But eventually he gave up and left the restaurant. Crowley was probably fine...hopefully... He was probably asleep, but there was still that nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to go check on him. He tried to put it off, forcing himself to read a book, but it got too much. He closed the store and made his way to Crowleys flat.

When he arrived, the flat was dark and silent. The door had been locked, but Crowley had given him a key so it wasn't hard to get in. He looked around at the dark flat anxiously, before he made his way through it, towards his bedroom. He took a deep breath to calm himself and was about to slowly open the door when he heard and agonizing cry of pain. He quickly pushed the door open and rushed to the bed where Crowley was laying. 

"Dear, what's wrong?" He asked, not knowing if he should touch him or not. The demon was shaking, badly, and he was clutching at his chest as he wheezed out a few breaths. His yellow slitted eyes locked with Aziraphales pale blue ones and he shuddered, letting his hand drop.

"'m.... ssssorry." He hissed, slowly trying to push himself up. His arms gave out under him and he fell back onto the bed. Aziraphale gently laid a hand across his sweaty forehead and nearly flinched away at how hot it was. Crowley always ran cold, mostly because he was cold-blooded. 

"Crowley, love, what's wrong?" Aziraphale asked, in the softest voice possible. Crowley met his eyes again and he could see tears gathering in the demons eyes. He gently rested a hand on his cheek as the tears started falling and in the most broken voice he had ever heard Crowley speak in, he said, "They're dying." 

Aziraphales eyes widened and he slowly sat on the bed. "Who's dying, Crowley?" He asked, gently wiping a few tears away. Crowley shuddered under his touch, a few more tears falling. "The.... the first stars I created. I can feel it. I can feel them dying." And Aziraphales heart nearly broke at that. He gently pressed a kiss to his forehead and laid down next to him. He wrapped his arms around Crowley, letting his hands rest on his chest. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as he tried to take a deep breath. He gently rubbed his chest trying to soothe him. "Relax, love...it's gonna be okay." He whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Eventually, he felt Crowley go lax under his arms and he let out a sigh of relief and pulled away. He pressed a kiss to the demons forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. It would do Crowley good to have some tea or hot cocoa, maybe even some soup so Aziraphale got to doing that. He decided that chicken noodle soup would be good for him. 

As soon as the broth starter to boil, he heard this awful retching sound from the bedroom. He snapped and turned the stove off as he ran to the bedroom in a panic. Was this it? Was he discorporating? If he was he'd never see him again. He doubted hell would ever give him a corporeal body again. He pushed the door open and immediately relaxed when he saw Crowley, who was still breathing. It wasn't even, but he wasn't gone. That was when he stench of vomit hit his nostrils and he covered his nose. He stared at Crowley and took in his appearance with a frown. He looked disheveled and the front of his shirt was covered in vomit. "Oh, dear." He said softly, walking over to him. Crowley looked completely embarrassed when he saw Aziraphale and he turned his head away. "I tried to get to the bathroom...I just... couldn't make it." He looked absolutely miserable and Aziraphales heart broke once again as he picked him up. 

"Let's get you washed up, okay dear?" All Crowley responded with was a whimper. He was still clutching his hand to his chest, shuddering in his arms. He felt awful. Each star dying was another stab to the chest. It was hard emotionally too. He vividly remembered forming the stars in his hands. Painting the night sky with the beautiful nebulas he created, making them look like paintings in the sky. And now these stars were dying. Sure, he'd felt stars die before, but not a cluster. And it hurt even more since it was his first cluster.

His bottom lip trembled as he continues thinking about the dying stars and Aziraphale frowned, gently putting him on the closed toilet seat. He snapped and the bathtub started filling with warm water. He turned to Crowley and pushed a few locks of his short, messy hair out of his face. He pressed a kiss to his forehead and then tapped his arms. He lifted them and Aziraphale pulled his shirt off, before moving to his pants and underwear. Once he was done, he turned the water off and helped the demon sit down in it. He grabbed a wash cloth and put soap on it. He lathered it and started to scrub Crowley's pale skin. He shuddered as Aziraphale kissed his shoulders a few times he looked up at him and Aziraphale cupped his chin. 

"I'm so sorry this is happening, love." He gently held him and kissed his cheek. As if on cue, Crowley gripped his chest chest with a shudder. His chest was heaving as he he whimpered. Aziraphale panicked slightly before he tired to pull him close, massaging his chest. He could feel his heart racing and when he looked up at him, he saw the tears streaming down his face. He leaned down and kissed his tears away. "Shhh... love.... relax. Breathe with me." He grabbed his hand and pressed it to his chest. He took a deep breath and Crowley shakily followed him. They did this a few more times and after a few minutes, Crowley calmed down as the pain subsided to a dull pulsing. Aziraphale gently ran his fingers through Crowley's hair. The demon leaned against his touch. 

"I'm sorry, 'zira...I'm a fucking mess." He said softly and Aziraphale tutted softly. "Hush. It's not your fault." He said, miracling the softest towel he could for Crowley. He drained the water and helped him out, wrapping him in it. 

He walked with him to the bedroom. He laid him down before he crawled in next to him. He pulled him close to his chest and kissed the crown of his head. "Get some rest, okay?" He said softly. Crowley nodded, letting his eyes slip closed. He fell asleep in Aziraphales arms, with his face pressed to his chest. Aziraphale held him close, rubbing his back as he watched his lover sleep. He felt awful seeing him like this. He wished he could take a tiny bit of the pain away. He pressed a hand to Crowley's forehead and preformed a small miracle to let Crowley sleep peacefully before he got up and headed downstairs.


End file.
